Category: Film Review

Gavin Hood’s sharp and unsettling political thriller, Eye in the Sky, details the heavy costs of drone warfare, presenting the viewer with a believable scenario, and never backing down from the reality of the story being presented. The diverse and eclectic cast includes a steely Helen Mirren, the superb as always Alan Rickman (so sad he’s gone), Aaron Paul, Barkhad Abdi, Jeremy Northam, Iain Glen, and Phoebe Fox, with everyone doing strong, un-showy, ground level work. Guy Hibbert’s swift screenplay wastes not a moment, getting right to business, and hardly letting up during the tight 90 minutes of action.

Out of nowhere, the little gem Blue Jay has come along, and now making a top 10 list for 2016 is getting harder and harder to do. This is an extremely funny and poignant film that eagerly mixes tones, shot in silky black and white and utilizing the walking-and-talking format, essentially operating as a coyly sexy yet surprisingly sad two-hander with Mark Duplass (who also wrote the terrific script) and Sarah Paulson (fabulous, yet again). Certainly reminiscent of Richard Linklater’s Before Trilogy but definitely its own thing, this story of two, long-ago lovebirds who randomly reconnect moves in some surprising directions, and always allows for the narrative to be born out of the characters and the generous performances from the well-matched co-stars. Duplass is one of the busiest people in Hollywood, and this film is his first production to hit Netflix streaming in a multi-film deal; I’m so excited that he’s found an outlet for his particular brand of low-key cinema because there’s been very little (if anything) that he’s been creatively involved with that I haven’t enjoyed. Blue Jay ranks up there with Cyrus as the most accomplished item on Duplass’ resume.

Directed with grace and simplicity by first-timer Alex Lehmann, Blue Jay moves through its 80 heartfelt minutes with a great sense of atmosphere and casual style; Lehmann also served as his own cinematographer and camera operator, making great use out of the chilly California mountain locations. And look out for Clu Gulager in a rather wonderful scene at a convenience store that underscores the humanity at the heart of Duplass’ tricky script. Because the film revolves around two characters, there has to be something at the center of the narrative that’s important to the both of them, and because the final act involves confessions and realizations from their past (none of which I’d spoil), all that has come before it takes on even more meaning. When they first see each other, it’s clear that there’s something unfinished between the two of them; both Duplass and Paulson do a great job conveying emotion through casual facial gestures and awkward body language. And throughout the sometimes painful and often times very funny story, there’s an eternal bond that re-emerges between the two characters, becoming nearly unbreakable, even if their futures are uncertain.

Sky High is a total blast of fun. Released in the late summer of 2005, this is basically a live-action version of Pixar’s The Incredibles, with Kurt Russell starring as a Super Dad whose entire family consists of various superheroes. Conceived in the 90’s by Paul Hernandez and fleshed out by Disney animation staff writers Robert Schooley (Hotel for Dogs), and Mark McCorkle (Monsters vs Aliens), the film was energetically directed by Mike Mitchell (Deuce Bigalow: Male Gigolo), and has an incident-packed narrative that doesn’t skimp on quirky character beats or wise-ass humor. It’s colorful, it’s witty, and all of the performances are in on the joke and totally earnest in all the proper ways. This is easily Russell’s most underappreciated performance as an actor, while Michael Angarano, Mary Elizabeth Winstead, Kelly Preston, Danielle Panabaker, Steven Strait, Cloris Leachman, and ex-Wonder Woman herself, Lynda Carter all offered great support.

Oh, and Bruce Campbell basically runs away with the entire film. Shelly Johnson’s vibrant cinematography is a huge plus, while the score by Michael Giacchino hits all the proper notes of familial triumph. Sadly, Sky High didn’t blast off at the domestic box office, as it probably seemed too quaint for our current in-your-face society; it grossed roughly $65 million in the states. But there’s something about this film that makes it special in a sea of family-oriented content, as it’s got a genuine sense of gee-whiz fun running all throughout its core, with a playful script and spirited sense of direction. Currently streaming on Netflix, this is a delightful PG-rated entertainment that is perfect for everyone as it offers a little bit of everything to be enjoyed.

There are few modern science fictions films as accomplished as Terry Gilliam’s complex and hugely entertaining head-trip 12 Monkeys. It’s easily in my top five from Gilliam. He’s made so many great, wildly fun movies that peer into pure madness that it’s tough to rank them. But this one is easily one of his most accomplished, and it represented that rare time where his incredibly unique, independent minded vision meshed with a somewhat generous studio budget and the rigors of a corporate funded project that was far from a surefire hit during its early conception.Gilliam is a filmmaker of eccentric wit, both of the verbal and visual variety, who also loves to push things as far as he can go with this go-for-broke style, which is borderline lunatic at times if not downright surreal and nightmarish. Looking like it cost twice as much as it actually did (an impossible to imagine $30 million!) and hurtling the viewer through time and space and all manner of various settings and distinct atmospheres, 12 Monkeys is a wonderfully convoluted tale of potentially hazardous time travel, affecting romance, paranoid fantasy, and sketchy virus thriller.

The script’s ingenious final moments on board that plane along with that haunting final line – “I’m in insurance” – it still chills to the bone, and I loved how Gilliam took the brilliant screenplay (co-written by David and Janet Peoples; David Peoples also wrote or co-wrote Unforgiven and Blade Runner), which was an epic take on the phenomenal short film La Jetée, and fine-tuned it to his personal taste and form-pushing aesthetic. Sometimes, when a filmmaker is as wildly original as Gilliam, and they are working with material not authored by them, you get the sense that their talents aren’t being fully utilized. Not here. Everything in this film hits its mark, and in most cases, the performers and department heads went above and beyond the call of duty. Bruce Willis, rarely better, wasn’t the confident, normal “Bruce Willis” we’d been accustomed to seeing on screen when this film was first released. Constantly sweating or drooling or bloodied, massively vulnerable, possibly delusional, always volatile, and incredibly nervous, it’s his “out-of-control” moment as an actor, and it’s fascinating to see Gilliam pick and prod at his big Hollywood star, throwing him through the ringer, and ultimately getting one of the most emotionally accessible pieces of work from the actor.

Brad Pitt, who had a banner year in 1995 with his twitchy, psychotic work in this film as a ranting and raving mental patient and his slick, star-making turn in David Fincher’s Se7en, brought a diseased humor (“Drrruuuggsss!”) to his role of guy with serious daddy issues and some interesting notions regarding animal freedom. Madeleine Stowe was still looking hot and it’s yet another reminder of how good she was on screen, sympathetic from the moment we meet her, and involved in the narrative not just as “the pretty girl,” which was a quality that followed her in many of her acting jobs. David Morse and Christopher Plummer also offered, as per usual, memorable support, with Morse cutting an especially scary portrait of the calm and calculated antagonist. I’ve been fascinated by this movie ever since my dad picked me up early from school (last two classes were ditched as I recall due to a “family event” lol) about two weeks into its wide release (it was his second time seeing the film), and over the years, I’ve utterly abused my DVD with countless re-visits, and it’s amazing to see the film on Blu-ray after all of these years. Roger Pratt’s varied and incredibly stylish cinematography is constantly arresting and a treat for the eyes, while Paul Buckmaster’s never-leave-your-conscience original score still gives me the willies. Mick Audsley’s editing is miraculous when it’s all boiled down; there’s so much depth to the storytelling and imagery and themes and yet the film moves at a beautiful pace. 12 Monkey’s has aged gracefully and rather compellingly over the last 20 years, with its political and social message still firmly intact, and offering cinematic glories that easily match the trippiest, most daring offerings of recent years.

The Big Lebowski is a favorite comedy for so many people because it speaks to everyone’s inner “Dude,” and it balances various forms of comedy – physical, verbal, visual, spiritual, existential – in a way that few other films have successfully pulled off. This was the last movie I think anyone would have expected from the Coen Brothers after they crafted their homespun crime thriller Fargo, and despite the fact that it wasn’t warmly received by theatrical audiences, most critics enjoyed it at the time despite some feeling perplexed by the endeavor. But over time, and because of the influence of DVD, stoner culture, and social media, The Big Lebowski has taken on an entirely new and different life of its own, and can be seen as so many things all at once.